


Blue

by kelios



Series: twitter prompts 2020 [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Mild Angst, Pre-Series, Underage - Freeform, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:33:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25157056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelios/pseuds/kelios
Summary: Sam's life changes forever the night he turns fifteen, and turns upside down two months later.Written for the prompt: crappy motel room/blue/boys saying fuck it, we want what we want
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester, Sam/Dean, Wincest
Series: twitter prompts 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1822414
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53





	Blue

The Impala’s growl fades away, leaving Sam and Dean alone in the flickery blue light of the rundown motel’s neon sign. Dean sighs and picks up his bag; Sam winces and does the same. He’s not looking forward to seeing their room (“No bitching,” John had growled before he left, which was weird because the words were clearly aimed at Dean, not Sam.   
“Dad…”   
“I’ll be back in a week. Try not to do anything too stupid.” And then he was gone.) but really, how bad can it be? 

Dean hesitates, sidelong glance at Sam that Sam feels down to his toes, then throws the door open--and now Sam gets it, flushing hot all over because there’s only one bed. No couch--the bed takes up most of the space, and Sam barely notices that the room is slightly cleaner and neater than their usual fare. Dean enters warily, like the bed might rise up and attack him, and Sam’s patience snaps. He drops his bag, swings the door shut behind him and flips all the locks slow and deliberate. When he turns around Dean’s face is pale and set, so different from two months ago--Sam’s 15th birthday, and Dean had snagged a fifth of Jack from the Impala’s trunk to celebrate. They’d lain under the stars for hours, passing the bottle back and forth, talking about everything and nothing until Sam’s courage had overtaken his fear and he’d leaned close, dazzled by the starlight in Dean’s eyes. He’d expected Dean to pull back but his brother had surprised him, his warm hand tangling in Sam’s hair and pulling him closer, until Dean’s breath was warm on Sam’s cheek, until Dean’s lips were warm against Sam’s. 

The next moments were like a dam breaking, all the love and need between them overflowing in a dizzying rush of want. Dean’s mouth on his, his hands fumbling with Dean’s belt, the hot, hard length of him like silk under Sam’s fingers. Dean had come with Sam’s name on his lips, low and rough, hot liquid spilling over Sam’s hand as he ground helplessly against Dean’s hip. Dean had barely touched him, barely got a hand inside Sam’s boxers before Sam was coming as well, his face buried in Dean’s shoulder. 

That was the last time Dean had touched him. He’d avoided Sam as much as he could, refused to talk about what had happened, and Sam is sick of it. He holds Dean’s gaze as he takes off his jacket, his t-shirt. Kicks off his shoes. Dean’s barely breathing, face slowly flushing as Sam walks closer. 

“Sam--” 

“You know,” Sam says fiercely. “You _know_.” He’s close enough to touch, put his hands on Dean’s chest. They’re nearly eye to eye now, and Sam can fear and want struggling for control of Dean’s expression. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Sam,” Dean says quietly, helplessly. “I never should have--”

“I wanted you to,” Sam tells him. He leans into his brother, so close he can feel Dean’s breath on his lips. Sam’s already hard, and when he rolls his hips into Dean he can feel that Dean is as well. “I still want you to. Please, Dean.” He closes that last half inch, breathes Dean’s name into his mouth as their lips touch. Dean’s hands are on Sam now, on his arms, like he wants to push Sam away but can’t. 

And then Dean kisses him. _Really_ kisses him, like he had the night of Sam’s birthday, like he’s dying of thirst and Sam is the only water in sight.

All Sam can do is kiss him back, swept away just like he’d been that night, willingly giving himself over to whatever Dean wants. 

“Why?” Sam gasps when Dean lets him go. “ _Why?_ ” 

“Guilt,” Dean admits, holding Sam close. “And I was pretty sure that if I so much as looked at you too hard I’d jump you right in front of Dad, which…”

Sam laughs shakily, all his pent up anger and hurt falling away. “I guess that makes sense.” He looks up at Dean wonderingly. “You really…?”

“If you do, Sammy,” Dean says, nodding. “But only if you do.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You’re so young, Sam. You should--” 

“Drag you over to that bed and kiss you until you stop saying stupid shit,” Sam interrupts. He grabs Dean’s hand and puts his words into action, pushing Dean down onto the huge bed and kissing him soundly. 

Dean grins and flips them, looking down at Sam with so much love and affection that Sam feels like his heart might burst. “I guess that works too,” he agrees. “Feel free to do it any time I’m being an idiot.” 

“So every day?” Sam teases. He locks his arms around Dean’s neck and pulls him down, gentle this time, slow and easy….until an explosion shakes the small room. Dean curses, reaching for the gun he doesn’t have, but Sam grabs his arm, points to the sky outside the window that faces the back of the lot. Blue light flashes over Dean’s face, turning his hair black and his skin ghost pale as the sky lights up brilliantly. Sam laughs delightedly as another rocket screams into the night sky and bursts, flooding the room with light. 

“Shit, they must be setting them off right over the motel,” Dean says, mildly annoyed, then turns to Sam with a grin. “Damn, I’ve got you seeing fireworks and you haven’t even gotten your pants off.” He waggles his eyebrows at Sam ridiculously. “Think we can make it to the _grand finale_?”

Sam groans at Dean’s horrible sense of humor, then grabs Dean’s amulet and yanks him down for another kiss. “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”


End file.
